


Look, don't touch

by JauntyHako



Series: Robot, Zombie, Time Traveler [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games)
Genre: Danse has a gay crisis, M/M, Voyeurism, only with ghouls instead of the gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 02:36:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5273324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JauntyHako/pseuds/JauntyHako
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danse accidentally happens on the Sole Survivor and Hancock having sex and faces the possibility that maybe he doesn't find ghouls as disgusting as he thinks he should.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look, don't touch

**Author's Note:**

> Filled for a prompt on the Fallout kinkmeme.  
> I didn't like the Brotherhood in 3 and I like them even less in 4 but between Danse and Maxson it's pretty much "Fuck the Brotherhood. But also -fuck- the Brotherhood, if you know what I mean" all the way.

The sound of tin cans rattling alerted Paladin Danse that something was afoot. Followed shortly after by muffled voices. The sound came from inside the shack where Andrew and that ghoul should be safely and soundly asleep, while Danse kept watch. Soldier's instincts kicked his adrenaline up a few notches as he got to his feet much more quiet than he was used to. The lack of power armor left him feeling naked and it did nothing for the impending sense of doom. If something had crawled into the shack without him noticing, if something should happen to his friend, he could never forgive himself. Sneaking up to the shack Danse realised no enemy needed to have come from the outside. His friend insisted on sharing sleeping space with that ghoul. Danse wouldn't put it past him to try and kill Andrew in his sleep.

As he peered through the cracks to get an initial assessment of the situation, triumph over being right warred with the horrid realisation that he _had_ been right. The ghoul knelt over Andrew's lifeless body, one hand still around his neck. He'd caught him in the act. Just as Danse prepared to kick the door in, Andrew moved. Danse's relief was short-lived as Andrew didn't fight back. Instead he propped himself up on his elbows, nuzzling the hand the ghoul had around his neck and then leaning further up to … oh. Oh!

Danse jumped away from the shack as if he'd been electrocuted. Heat branded his cheeks, undoubtedly turning them red and splotchy. Oh God. No fight was going on in there.

When Andrew during his intial medical exam had said he had sexual relations with a person considered non-human Danse thought he'd been joking. He was _always_ joking for hell's sake, why had this in particular to be true? Not to mention that it eluded Danse how anyone could do thesethings with a ghoul of all things. The thought alone drew shivers not of the pleasant kind over his back. Even the best preserved looked like corpses. He had to take another look. Maybe he'd interpreted the situation wrong. It could still be some horrible misunderstanding. He shouldn't jump to conclusions that would implicate his friend in this manner.

Heart beating up to his throat Danse crept up to the shack once more. The ghoul still sat in Andrews lap, squirming and chuckling. Andrew peppered his throat with kisses, hands wandering somewhere under that ridiculous coat. There was no mistaking what was going on in there. Danse averted his eyes and turned around to lean against the shack. He stared into the night, eyes accustoming themselves again to the darkness after the brightness in the shack. He _had_ been wondering how Andrew could sleep with the light burning so high. If he'd known that he would do anything but sleep he'd …

No, he had no idea what he'd have done. While there were no specific rules prohibiting relations with non-humans Danse knew of no cases where something like this had happened. People who were into that sort of thing typically didn't join the Brotherhood. No self-respecting soldier would ever come close to a depravity like that. What was next? Synths? Super Mutants? With horror Danse remembered Andrew counting both among his friends. That Valentine character in particular he spoke of very fondly. Had he done it with that one, too? Was everything he thought he knew about Andrew wrong?

A breathless sigh tore him from his musings. Sitting up ram-rod straight Danse listened to the sounds coming from inside the shack, unable to tear himself away.

“Do that again, brother.”

Whatever Andrew had done he evidently did it again because the ghoul sighed again, deeper this time. Clothes rustled and then a muted thump as something, Danse pictured the red coat, hit the floor. Their kisses grew wetter and open-mouthed, judging from the pleased little moans that Danse couldn't place with Andrew or the ghoul. It went on forever, certainly longer than Danse thought the whole act would last. Not that he had any first hand experience with, uh, intimacy of that sort, but from what he overheard occasionally, Scribe Haylen being a particularly fertile ground of gossip in that regard, a late night rut on the road wouldn't last more than a few minutes. 'Something to get the edge off' Haylen had called it and winked. If that was what they did in there it was one hell of an edge to get off.

“Mmh, look at you. You're gorgeous.” Andrew said, interrupted by more kissing.

“Liar.” the ghoul said, voicing Danse's thoughts. He approached the fact that maybe Andrew had some horrible fetish for ghouls but even then he wouldn't find that _thing_ attractive. Would he?

“I'm serious. I like your, hmm, eyes and the way you-” Andrew gasped at something the ghoul did, momentarily forgetting what he was about to say. Fabric moved against fabric as the two struggled to get into a new position without letting off of each other.

“The way I what?” the ghoul drawled, voice even huskier than usual.

“The way you move when we're together. I noticed that little hip sway you do for me, you know?”

“You did?” For some reason the ghoul seemed to find that funny. “What makes you think it's for you? What if I'm trying to seduce our illustrious paladin …”

With a start Danse realised the ghoul meant him. The gall to even presume. Even if it was a joke, the thought alone forced bile into his mouth. Danse swallowed it down and got up. He needed to go. He'd just … scout the perimeter. Or something. Hopefully by the time he was done these two would be, too. Then he'd just have to figure out how to look Andrew in the eyes from now on.

 

The area was dark and quiet. Danse wouldn't have minded a small scuffle to get his mind of things. Nothing serious, of course. Something that he could handle alone instead of falling back on a probably half naked Andrew and his ghoul boy toy. Danse kicked at a stone harder than it was wise to do without power armour. The stone promptly thanked him by revealing itself as a boulder embedded in the earth. He cursed and hopping on one leg, throwing daggers with his eyes at the nefarious boulder. Making a mental note to come back later in his power armour to crush the rock to dust, Danse went on. That little exercise had done little to calm his spirits. If anything he was more riled up than before.

A ghoul! An irradiated monstrosity of a human being, an affront to mother nature herself. Danse had touched ghouls before, when the fight brought them close quarters before he'd been awarded his power armor. It had been years since he was last in the field without the armour and all he remembered of those encounters with ferals were unnaturally yielding flesh like a half filled sack of goo and a smell cloying and pungent with a sharp undertone like ammonia. A ghoul infested sewer stunk from miles away. Now that he thought about it he never noticed Andrew's ghoul smelling any worse than any of them after a day in the field. Maybe normal ghouls differed from their feral cousins in more than just brain capacity. Danse shook his head. That didn't change the fact that they looked the same, half of their bodies already decomposed. How did kissing even work between a human and a ghoul? With large holes where their noses used to be Danse imagined it all too easy for a human nose to get stuck in there, which would be embarrassing at best. And with only bare remnants of lips there was no way the rest of their bodies would be any more suited for intimacy. And even if that ghoul had proven to be a valuable asset in combat, it was nothing you wanted to have sex with. Only that Andrew apparently did. It didn't make sense. A knight of the Brotherhood would never … Danse interrupted his train of thought. Andrew was different and had been from the moment he joined up. He'd made it clear that he would support the Brotherhood against the Institute but he never made a secret of his pro-synth stance. Elder Maxson and Andrew butted heads regularly because of that. It wasn't too far of a leap to assume that his opinions would encompass ghouls as well. It still was somewhat of a step from fighting for the rights of non-humans to having sex with them.

Without the armor Danse quickly got cold and was driven back to their camp and the fire burning and luring him with its warmth. He prayed Andrew and his ghoul would be finished by now. Or at least quieter. Especially quieter. Danse would have shot himself in the foot before admitting it, but the ghouls voice wasn't as repulsing as the rest of him by far. With Andrew coming straight out of a Vault-Tec pin up calendar – if such a thing existed – it made for some frightening reactions. It was still disgust, Danse told himself on the way back. His private parts shriveling back in horror felt similar to them being … excited. That was the story and Danse would stick to it.

 

Lady Luck had it out for Danse. When he got back Andrew and the ghoul were still firmly engaged with each other. Danse saw their shadows flickering inside the shack. Only the temperatures kept him from turning around again and 'scouting' some more. Sitting down by the fire he cast a quick look inside his helmet's watch and learned that he was gone for at least half an hour. How long did they intend to draw this out? Didn't they care at all about getting caught? Andrew especially should have at least some anxiety about being caught getting frisky with a non-human. A curt look towards the shack as the wind carried laughter over to him told Danse that neither of them were ready to call it a day.

If it at least had been a human. It would still be awkward but Danse could pretend nothing happened and go about shining his armor and do some impromptu repairs. He'd done it before. At the moment he would have preferred the company of that lying thieving no-good McCready to that of the dressed up ghoul. He couldn't stop thinking about what was happening in there, wondering if they were still clothed or both naked, Andrew's flawless skin against the ghoul's rotten one. Before he knew it he was on his feet and over by the shack. Everything in him screamed to stop but whatever part of him was currently in control didn't listen.

Andrew lay flat on his back, hands fisted in the sheets, naked and writhing, the ghoul between his legs, lapping greedily at his cock. Breath stuck in his throat, Danse watched mesmerised as he took Andrews cock full, bobbing his head up and down at a torturously slow pace. His shoulder moved, making Danse follow the movement of his arm and noticing the ghoul cupping himself through his pants. So there was something there to be cupped after all. Andrew moaned and threw his head back. Danse wondered what the ghoul had done to warrant that kind of reaction. His curiosity got sated a moment later when he heard him hum lowly, Andrew's hips bucking up. He didn't even gag but hollowed his cheeks, eliciting another sinful sound from Andrew's mouth.

“God …”

“Just Hancock is fine, love.” the ghoul said after letting up in his efforts for a moment and received a gentle slap on the head for his cheekiness. Danse's breath hitched at how _wrecked_ the ghoul sounded despite his cocky tone. There was another wave of what Danse referred to with less and less conviction as disgust. He fought down the urge to touch himself.

The lack of activity didn't last long. Before soon Hancock went down on Andrew again, enthusiastic and more than a little capable from the needy gasps Andrew made.

What surprised Danse the most was how, well, sweet the ghoul was with Andrew. His free hand held Andrew's, despite how uncomfortable it had to be. Every now and then they stroke up eye contact, Andrew's gaze adoring even through the arousal and Hancock's no less so. This wasn't just a rump between strangers. They loved each other. For some reason that only made Danse harder. He pressed the palm of his hand down on his growing erection to force it down. In the shack Andrew whined and mewled, begging Hancock to fuck him already. The ghoul laughed and did something Danse couldn't see through the cracks in the wall. Whatever it was it made Andrew keen and push himself hard against the ghoul.

They moved with each other like they were dancing, Hancock meeting every push of Andrew's hips with just a tiny bit of counter pressure, enough to keep them close, not enough to push them over the edge. It was depraved watching someone like Hancock do something Danse never considered with ghouls in context. Listening to the ghouls pleased hums with his face buried in the coarse locks between Andrews legs, hands busy just a bit lower, there were still remnants of nausea but none as intense as they needed to be in a paladin of the Brotherhood. Danse found himself increasingly challenged not to mimic the gentle touches the two shared. Watching them was shameful enough but pleasuring himself to the picture of his brother-in-arms sleeping with a ghoul went one step too far. He couldn't, even as his cock strained against his fatigues, painfully hard.

“C'mere, love.” Hancock murmured, barely audible from Danse's point and Andrew readily lifted his legs over Hancock's shoulders, his breath catching as he pushed into him with one swift motion.

This almost made Danse draw back. He'd just gotten used to the fact that Andrew allowed the ghoul close. To have his decaying cock inside felt wrong, unhygienic at best, sickening at worst. Danse's erection flagged but not for long. He swallowed the nausea down, him being sick would certainly alert the two to his staring. Their noises took care of the rest. Reverently murmured declarations of love in between moans and gasps from both as they moved together, deep and slow. After this much foreplay, much of which he'd missed with his spontaneous walk in the woods, Danse didn't expect the act to last long and was, once again, surprised. Hancock drew it out, jerked Andrew in time with his thrusts, Andrew begging for more, faster, harder without getting what he wanted. He smothered his plea with kisses, tongues touching, Hancock faltering in his thrusts when Andrew bit what was left of his lower lip.

Danse couldn't understand what they were saying to each other, their voices being too low to make out from here and wished desperately he could. Just to be part of whatever it was they had. He was confused and aroused beyond measure and not entirely sure anymore whom he was jealous of. Some part of him still in denial insisted that watching Andrew like this with anyone was enough to get a man hot and bothered. The rest of him had ceded victory to the fact that he wanted them both. Even though one of them was an abomination, a festering stain on humanity's history, Danse no longer could bring himself to act as if this display did nothing to him. And his voice, God, his voice, raspy and deep and so very alluring. Whatever he said made Andrew laugh and then shortly thereafter shout with pleasure, as he finally picked the pace up. Once again Danse had to push down his cock or else he would have come in his pants. He couldn't let that happen. He'd never given in to carnal pleasures before and wouldn't now, especially when his friend was the source of his lust.

“You close? Wanna cum for me?” Hancock asked, loud enough to hear, hands gripping Andrews hips hard enough to leave marks. Andrew only whined, nodded, fucked himself on his cock. His eyes were screwed shut and Danse had to follow suit, couldn't watch their climax but heard it all the same, Andrew's moan interrupted halfway through, Hancock grunting but otherwise quiet – Danse scolded himself for wishing he'd be more vocal – the slapping of skin against skin coming to a halt until only their heavy breathing was left. Danse still had his eyes closed when he heard one body slumping to the ground next to the other. His brow furrowed. Andrew had been _loud_. He would have heard them even if he hadn't before. Dread crept up his spine just in time for Hancock to call over, laughter in his voice.

“Enjoyed the show, big guy?”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I might write a sequel to this that's set after 'Blind Betrayal' so let me know if you liked it :)


End file.
